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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26286304">A Longing</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/scavengerscab/pseuds/scavengerscab'>scavengerscab</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Naruto</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Angst</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 07:28:57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,623</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26286304</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/scavengerscab/pseuds/scavengerscab</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of ShikaTema anecdotes. Also on fanfiction.net</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Nara Shikamaru/Temari</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>64</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Knees</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"For a woman so crass," he smirked, "I never figured you'd be such a tender lover."</p>
<p>"Well, if a tempting opportunity that demands one to lose composure presents itself," she chuckled, her eyes slowly following the tips of her fingers as she lightly traced the contours of his toned chest, pitstopping at the scars she memorized all too well, "who am I to resist?" Her eyes snapped back to meet his onyx gaze. She flicked one brow upwards, teasing him, implying a challenge.</p>
<p>He licked his lips before pressing them against hers. Their kiss started off slow and lazy in an attempt to beckon the other to cave first. But when Temari let out a small groan, he smiled to himself in victory before he gently grabbed ahold of her hips. Feeling the form of his smile against her teeth, she chuckled then. She ran her fingers through the base of his ponytail and felt that his scalp was still damp from the lovemaking that happened just moments ago.</p>
<p>"You know," he breathed in between the pepper of kisses he planted down the sides of her neck, "I don't particularly like you."</p>
<p>"Oh?"</p>
<p>"But say the word and I'm at your beck and call."</p>
<p>His hot breath tingled the hairs around her ear and she let out a honey giggle then. </p>
<p>And the way her warm harmony danced around his ears reawakened the tightness around his pants, which he thought they had satiated just minutes before.</p>
<p>"And if I say buy me dinner?"</p>
<p>"Sweet chestnuts are for dessert." Stroking his ego, she let out a soft groan as he sucked at the tender skin just at the tip of her collarbone. </p>
<p>"And if I say," her breath labored once again, "drop everything and stay with me tonight?"</p>
<p>He ran his large and calloused hands down the sides of her hips and around her behind before planting his palms under her thighs and lifting her upwards. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around his waist. </p>
<p>"I'm on my fucking knees," he whispered into her skin, thankful she still wasn't fully clothed yet.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Obedient</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A bead of sweat trickled down the lines of his jaw before dripping into her open mouth. Surely this would have been embarrassing, even for a nonchalant man of his stature, if she hadn't noticed. How could she? She was too preoccupied raking her nails along the canvas of his back. </p><p>He took a moment to really look at her now. Her teal eyes hidden shut behind long, golden lashes. The flush of heat and a climbing ecstasy stained her cheeks, her neck, and down to the tender skin above her breasts. Her lips, slightly parted, gasping for air, gasping for him to move faster, harder. He didn't comply though. He loved seeing her like this: obedient under his control. He knew the type of woman she was. She was the type to demand. She brimmed with confidence in everything she did, even down to menial tasks like walking and sleeping. But here, under him, like this, there was no denying an underlying component to her overbearing, patronizing personality. Whatever Temari takes, she also gives. </p><p>And fuck, did he love it when she gives. </p><p>He was pretty sure she had him wrapped around her pretty little finger. And normally he would not falter to such seduction tactics, but there was just something about the air around Temari that made him lose all sense and logic. All predictions, all 200 steps of thoughtful planning conjured within seconds did not matter, for she broke and tore away everything he's ever known with just the sway of her hips. But yet, she always puts back and mended all those pieces. She lent herself to him, vulnerable and giving. Generous. Erotic. He couldn't say no. He'll never say no.</p><p>He felt her tightening around him and although he desperately wanted to give in to her pleading desires, he maintained his rhythm. He wants to savor her. All of her. She opened her eyes then, teal and full of desperate edge.</p><p>"Shika-" she whispered. </p><p>He knows she's close. Whenever his name tumbled out of her lips like that, he knows she's close. And he knows he's close. He leaned into the crook of her neck and sucked at the soft, wet skin. "You're fucking delicious," he whispered through gritted teeth. </p><p>And as if on cue, she came undone. A small whimper escaped her mouth as she dug her fingers into the sides of his back, pulling him closer, urging his thrusts to shallow and quicken. She withered and quivered against him that he too can no longer resist. Not long after, desert stars and cactus flowers clouded his vision. A slurry of Konoha rain and Suna heat erupted inside him and he found himself panting inches away from her lips. </p><p>"I must say," she said after the come-down of their high, "I was never one to surrender to lazy fucking. But you-- you're truly something else." </p><p>He chucked. "Is that so?"</p><p>"What are you doing to me, Nara?" Fatigue tinted her voice and he pulled the covers up to her shoulders. He watched as her eyelids slowly fluttered closed and her breathing steadied. </p><p>He planted a small kiss at the top of her head and savored at the aroma of white pea flower that was her shampoo. "It's what you do to me, Temari."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Shogi</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>During an innocent game of shogi, Shikamaru allowed his mind to wander.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“No.”<br/>  <br/>“Come on.”<br/>  <br/>“I said no, Chouji.” He stared at the rolled-up magazines in his best friend’s large hand. His brow furrowed. He didn’t want to know where Chouji got those magazines from. And judging from the thin gaps between the pages where the corners were dog-eared, he didn’t want to know whom they belonged to either. <br/>  <br/>“It’ll help you!” Chouji insisted, waving the roll in front of Shikamaru’s face. <br/>  <br/>Shikamaru stumbled half a step back at the intrusion. Chouji was always a patient man, but he was also pushy. “Jesus,” Shikamaru stammered. “Stop waving that, will you!” <br/>  <br/>Grabbing a hold of Shikamaru’s hand, fingers thin and feminine compared to Chouji’s short and meaty, Chouji enclosed the magazines into his friend's grip. “Then take it!” <br/>  <br/>“Fine,” Shikamaru gave in in an attempt to ward Chouji off his back. He squished the roll as flat as he could before shoving them into his back pocket and pulling his shirt over it, lamely concealing the bulk, knowing fully it was still obvious he was hiding something. Blatantly obvious. But he noted that just because he reluctantly accepted the magazines did not mean he had to look at them. And he had absolutely no desire nor enough curiosity to peak through the pages and read any of the scandalous headlines. <br/>  <br/>“Trust me,” Chouji beamed, laying a heavy arm on Shikamaru’s shoulder. “You’re gonna wanna take a look at it.” Chouji winked and Shikamaru sighed. <br/> <br/>That night, the magazines felt like an incessant nagging in the back of his mind. It had been three hours since he had retired to bed but he had not slept a wink. God, he thought to himself, why is Choji making a big deal out of shogi???<br/>  <br/>He tossed the idea back and forth in his mind before coming to the conclusion that, okay, maybe it didn’t hurt to just flip through the pages. Taking a deep sigh, he cursed Chouji and lifted the corner of his mattress, revealing the now crinkled and creased magazines that he swore he had no intention of looking through. Yet, there they were, now in his hands. <br/>  <br/>He plopped back on his bed and opened one of the dog-eared pages. <br/>  <br/>FIVE SECRET SPOTS THAT WILL DRIVE YOUR LADY CRAZY. <br/>  <br/>His eyes widened at seeing such a brash and forward headline and felt an intense heat rise up his cheeks. His neck was suddenly quite warm too. He quickly tossed the magazine and shielded his eyes with his forearm. <br/>  <br/>He firmly held onto the principle that men should never lie, especially in the face of those he cared for. So he’d be lying to himself if he hadn’t thought about this. And he’d damn himself less of a man if he denied thinking about doing this. With her. <br/>  <br/>Her, of all fucking people. <br/>  <br/>Sex was not new to him. He’s had a couple of partners— all civilians— before, so he hadn’t the slightest clue about what was the source for this sudden curiosity. Surely he never deemed himself a master in bed, but to his knowledge, all his previous partners were always left satiated at the very least. <br/>  <br/>Does this mean he cared about her? That he didn’t just want to have sex with her purely to satisfy his sinful pleasures? Sure, he liked the way her smile radiated a type of warmth that only came with the desert sun. Or the way her hair smelled like a cocktail of cactus flowers and sugar water. Or the way she nibbles on her bottom lip whenever she was deep in thought. Or the way—<br/>  <br/>AH FUCK! He shot up and buried his face in the palm of his hands. A millions thoughts raced through his mind. Never mind that she’s gorgeous! I don’t technically like her, I just tolerate her. She’s crude and rude and it doesn’t matter how fucking pretty her lips are, her mouth runs faster than the Inuzuka clan! <br/>  <br/>After what seemed like an eternity, he lifted his head from his hands, feeling heavy and light-headed at the same time. He found then that the magazine was still lain open by his knees, with the indecent headline staring back at him. Beckoning him. Feeling defeated with no ounce of dignity left, he read the article. And all the ones that followed in the pages after. <br/> </p>
<p>"Ready to lose, crybaby?” she teased as she led him to her living room. He took the liberty of familiarizing himself of the temporary quarters she stayed in some weeks out of the year. The decor, if one could even call it decor, was nearly barren. Simple. It was the type of ambiance that screamed temporary. Not really a home. <br/>  <br/>But even then, Temari just also happened to be everywhere. A stand that held her hair brush and extra hair bands lie atop her almost-naked vanity. Some bottles of barely-touched lotion and hair care products lie next to a seemingly brand new hair dryer. Her bed, still with no signs of use from the night, was neatly made up with cactus-patterned sheets and pillowcases. And right next to the brand new shogi table was a tray of already-brewed tea and biscuits, exclusive from Suna. <br/>  <br/>The shogi board was already set up and prepared in the middle of the room. <br/>  <br/>“Tch,” he dismissed. <br/>  <br/>“I’m well-versed with your traditional, misogynistic line of thinking,” she scoffed, urging him to take his place before her, “but don’t go easy on me.” <br/>  <br/>He lifted a brow. “Never intended to.”<br/>  <br/>The first game went on for nearly half an hour. He was quite impressed to find that Temari was such an insistent opponent. But then again, he hadn’t expected any less. And if he was being honest with himself, he paid more attention to her and the lines of her figure than he did to their game. <br/> <br/>She didn’t wear her usual attire. Her hair was the same but she wore an over-over-oversized shirt of some heavy metal band (Kankurou’s, she told him, noticing his quizzical look) and shorts that paved attention to her toned and slender legs. So these were the types of pajamas she wears, he noted. And even though she wasn’t wearing anything immodest or suggestive, he did not deny that he found her so god damn alluring. Perhaps it was the way she looked so homey and comfortable that made her have some sense of normalcy. Or rather, normal to what was Temari. <br/>  <br/>She was subconsciously nibbling on her bottom lip as she scanned the shogi board. He thought then what her bottom lip would feel like in between his teeth. Suddenly, and without permission, his mind began to wander to the various tips and tricks he read from those wretched magazine articles the night before. He felt his face flush from the sudden heat. But, relieved to find that her eyes were fixated on the board, he allowed his eyes to linger at the spots those advice columns told him to pay more attention to: that small spot just under her ear, the base of her neck, the top of her…</p>
<p>“Oh!” she exclaimed, eyes widening in some sort of revelation as she finally moved a piece. Shikamaru then released an audible sigh. To him, it was of relief that his indecent thoughts were duly interrupted before he lost control of himself. But judging from the scowl she shot him, she assumed it was from impatience. </p>
<p>Without thinking, he moved a piece and captured the one she just moved. Incredulity plastered on her face as she humphed and planted her chin on her left palm. </p>
<p>“Any day now,” he smirked. <br/> <br/>Her eyes darted back to him. “Shove it!” she hissed. <br/> <br/>Leaning back on his hands, he gazed up at the ceiling. “Troublesome. You told me not to go easy.” <br/> <br/>“And I meant it.” She moved another piece. <br/> <br/>And he moved one of his immediately after. “Checkmate.” <br/> <br/>She blew some pieces of her fringe from the corner of her eye and crossed her arms. But before he could throw another jab at her, she began rearranging the pieces. <br/> <br/>“You sure you want to go another round?”  <br/> <br/>She looked directly at him now, a daunting heat bouncing off her teal eyes. It was a look that seemingly challenged him to test his courage. “Why? Scared I’ll beat you this time?”<br/> <br/>“Absolutely not.” </p>
<p>But scared he was. Not of her and certainly not of this game, but for the flurry of mixed emotions and unknown feelings he had growing in the pit of his stomach. This strange feeling suddenly climbed up his chest, then into his mind, and reflected off his dark eyes as he looked at the source of which this clusterfuck of unwarranted yearning stemmed from. He watched as the corners of her lips perked up. And feeling like a fool, he welcomed the fear. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Wedding</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A wedding. A shared cigarette. And some flirting. Also on fanfiction.net.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I apologize if this work seems like it was abandoned or that I've been MIA. In the words of our favorite sensei, "I got lost on the path of life." But thanks to the holidays, I've got more time on my hands! I hope you enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The sound of typical wedding music and loud cheers droned on a well distance away from where he stood. He leaned up against the trunk of a tall tree and looked ahead to water. The universe must have also been in a celebratory mood for the moon shone so big and bright, the clouds were clearly visible. Coaxing a stick from his pack with his lips, he flicked open Asuma’s old lighter and took a slow drag. He held in the smoke for a few seconds before slowly letting the tainted vapor cascade down his exhale.</p>
<p>As he watched a fat cloud slowly drift by, he commended Ino for choosing such a beautiful venue. Or rather, a convenient one for he was able to slip away, undetected in the shadows and escape from the crowd of drunk strangers who tried, and failed, to persuade him to dance. He found it necessary to do this once every hour or so, which perfectly aligned with his ache for a 15-minute cigarette.</p>
<p>“Spare me a stoke?” called a voice behind him. Startled, he whipped his head around mid-puff to find the Kazekage’s sister slowly walking towards him. There was slight smirk on her lips. “I ran out.”</p>
<p>“Tough,” he scoffed. “This is my last—”</p>
<p>Before he could finish his sentence, she stole the stick from his teeth and helped herself to a long drag. She blew the smoke in his direction as she held onto the cigarette mid-air between her first two fingers. “I can tell you’re an only child.” She brought the butt back to her lips and took one more short inhale before handing it back to him, which he gladly took. “You don’t know how to share.”</p>
<p>The bud of the cigarette was now stained with her rose lipstick. “Since when did you smoke?”</p>
<p>“I’m a social smoker.”</p>
<p>“That’s surprising.”</p>
<p>“What? The smoking?”</p>
<p>“No, the socializing,” he teased. He was surprised to find that although she did chuckle, she had no comeback to retaliate.</p>
<p>Instead, she stared off, teal and wide-eyed, into the still lake. She wore one of those form-fitting halter dresses that ran a bit below her knees with nude heels to match. He’d snuck glances at her throughout the wedding but this was the first time that night they’ve actually spoken. And it wasn’t until she stood by him that he was able to take a good look at her whole figure.</p>
<p>For someone seemingly cruel and disciplined, her body showed no trace of her demeanor. It was if she was handcrafted by a sculptor who held an animosity towards the male gender. Years and years of training has definitely blessed her with dips and curves in all the right places. And the way the thin fabric of her dress earnestly clung to her form showed no mercy to the imagination. Even decorated with scars, her skin looked soft and delicate. Velvet and smooth. But he knew she was anything but.</p>
<p>As he gazed at the streaks of moonlight that bounced off the high points of her face, even then, he could not deny himself: she was absolutely captivating. Stunning. Like a painting with colors so carefully chosen, it felt sinful to gawk for too long.</p>
<p>With a sudden need to display his gentlemanliness, he handed her back the cigarette. “You look nice,” he commented.</p>
<p>She took another long inhale. “And you.”</p>
<p>A moment of silence was shared between the two as her chest rose and she sighed out the smoke. She chuckled then before handing back the cigarette. “Funny. I think it’s because we look relatively clean.” He gave her a quizzical look. “Our meeting always end up with either of us caked with dirt or grime from missions or long travels. It’s a seldom occurrence for us to look,” she waved her hand at the evening attire, “like this.”</p>
<p>“Mm,” he agreed.</p>
<p>Another comfortable silence hung between the two. He passed her the nearly-finished smoke and she took a quick breath. But as she handed him back the stick, he gestured for her to keep it.</p>
<p>She flicked her eyebrow up as she rested her elbow atop her free hand. “What?” she teased, although she was genuinely shocked. “You going soft on me now, Nara?”</p>
<p>He laughed at the comment and shoved his hands in his pockets, not meeting her eyes. He audible sucked in some air between his teeth. “Naaah,” he grinned, a tad embarrassed.</p>
<p>“No, you’re right.” She flicked the last of the ash from the cigarette before putting the unlit butt in his blazer pocket. She lightly tapped it twice with three fingers for a mockery of good measure. “You’ve always been fucking soft.”</p>
<p>He shrugged. “Must be the night’s atmosphere.”</p>
<p>“Enlighten me.”</p>
<p>He snuck a glance at her only to find her eyes beckoning him to humor her. “You know,” he gave in, “a wedding. How passionate Naruto naturally is and Hinata’s yearning finally being satiated. Love is in the air. An open bar. Potentially single men and women with an equally potential attractiveness if given enough drinks.”</p>
<p>She threw her head back in laughter, exposing her moonlit alabaster neck. “Oh man,” she jokingly shoved his shoulder. “If you’re that desperate, why don’t you try the fifth?”</p>
<p>“Hm?”</p>
<p>“The bridesmaid. The one with chin-length hair. She couldn’t keep her eyes off you since the vows.”</p>
<p>He smirked. “And I take it you’ve been watching me too.”</p>
<p>“Please,” she scoffed. “I only her heard lusting over you in the bathroom. I had half a mind to tell her to run.”</p>
<p>“Why didn’t you?”</p>
<p>She arched her eyebrows. “And cockblock?” She laughed again. “I may be cruel, but I’m not that cruel. It’s a bit tragic to see how little faith you have in me.”</p>
<p>“Forgive me,” he said with sarcasm.</p>
<p>“I’ve had you enough times to know what you like, Nara,” she giggled.</p>
<p>His cheeks flushed in astonishment. But before he could say anything, she had already turned around, a delicate hand suspended in the air to bid him farewell. “Thanks for the cig!” she called without looking back.</p>
<p>Shikamaru watched as her petite figure grew smaller the farther she walked away from him. He stayed looking until she disappeared into the crowd of bobbing heads. He stayed until the noise of people grew quieter. And he stayed until the moonlight was no longer visible on the lake.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Stars</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>As Temari gazes up at the stars, she remembers that one night under a yoshino tree.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was unusually cold in Suna this time of year.</p>
<p>The last few months, although busy, were unbearably dull and uneventful. There was only so much political monotony she could take as she was the type of woman to crave excitement. She had been itching for any reason to go on a mission, or attend a council meeting outside of her village, or whatever reason she could find to drop by Konoha and visit that shadow boy. But nothing of the sort came her way. And she’d never succumb to coming up with a half-ass excuse to leave for another village without reason. She had way too much pride.</p>
<p>She snuggled her blanket up to her chin and rolled over to side, staring at the full moon right out of her window. Her eyes bounced from rooftop to rooftop of some of Suna’s infamous sandcastle buildings, imagining the chances of him sneaking through the shadows of her village’s dense security system, climbing through her bedroom window, and crawling into bed with her. She chuckled at the unlikely scenario. Surely he was a man smart enough to pull that off, but he was also a man too lazy to even try.</p>
<p>Sighing, she lustfully gazed at the stars. They seemed so far and out of reach, yet she could feel their blazing heat from her little spot behind her window. As she watched them twinkle, she thought back to a parallel moment where she saw the same glittering in his eyes. Yet, it wasn’t the stars that reflected upon his dark irises, but the sugar cubes he held onto as he fed the fawn in the Nara clan forest. He told her she was the first person he ever brought to step into his family’s secluded property. They sat under this big yoshino tree, the same one he and his mother used to sit under in his childhood, and watched as the deer elegantly grazed by into the setting sun. They stayed that way, entangled in each other, and counted the minutes as the clouds turned from a canvas of painted reds and pinks to a deep violet.</p>
<p>She remembered how the sudden night breeze made her shoulders shiver. And she remembered how strong and warm his arms felt as he wrapped himself around her waist. She could feel the ghost of his chin as she reminisced how he whispered sweet nothings into the crook of her shoulder. How his warm lips slowly nibbled the lobe of her ear. A soft moan escaped into her blanket as the memory of his touch clouded her mind.</p>
<p>His large hands gently tracing over her scarred skin. His fingers circling around her knees inciting an eruption of sweet giggles. Then up the thick of her thighs. And slowly, oh so slowly, into the wetness between her legs.</p>
<p>Under the covers, she submitted to herself in the way she did him. Her fingers traced over her skin in the way that he had. In every way that she had remembered.</p>
<p>“God damn,” she recalled his husky voice growl. “Temari…" </p>
<p>She slipped two fingers underneath her panties as the memory of her name dripped like honey between his teeth. A desire she recalled so strong that she could almost taste the light traces of bitter menthol on his tongue. With her free hand, she touched her body in every way that he had under that tree. She mimicked the way he touched like it was the first time he’d seen her in such a vulnerable state. With a forceful hand, she grabbed onto her chest and tugged at her nipples through her shirt just like he did. Then she roamed her free fingers to the spots he would normally touch her, where he knew just how she liked.</p>
<p>She mimicked his signature slow pace, knowing full well he only did so to tease her. To mock her. To make it known that her body was under his control and his alone. She gripped onto her sheets just as she did the grass they laid on. And suddenly remembering the slight pain he induced as he bit down on her neck, she arched her back, his name slipping between releases of her ecstasy. Just like she did under the yoshino tree. Just like she always had.</p>
<p>Her chest rose and fell at a quick pace as she panted from her high. A tad satiated, she them turned back to her side as she stared at the night sky once again. No, this was nothing like the real thing, she thought.</p>
<p>But as she watched the red and greens of far away planets glimmer among the desert stars, she couldn’t help but wonder whether he too stared at the same sky and thought of her.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Loyalties</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Shikamaru-centric.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“And you came to this decision on your own?”</p><p>
“Yes.”</p><p>
“I see.” </p><p>	All that he knew was just how he couldn’t say no to her. Whenever she’d stop by at the dead of the night, whenever she’d whisper his name, whenever she’d press her strawberry-glossed lips against his, he couldn’t but give her everything she wanted, everything she demanded. He cursed himself. If only he hadn’t been selfish, maybe she’d be crawling into his bed right about now. Maybe if he actually thought more about it and ignored all his primitive impulses, he’d be smelling her hair as she nestled in the spot between his neck and collarbones. Maybe, just maybe, she’d still be here.</p><p>
But no. He just had to open his damn mouth, didn’t he?</p><p>
He thought about the moment over and over again. Could he have made a mistake? Could he even call it a mistake? Seeing as how he laid in his bed, along with an indescribable pain in his chest whenever he thought about her— which was all the time— yes, he could call it a mistake. But was it one he regretted? No. He couldn’t. Because what he said was true and he was not a man to speak unless there were truth in his words.</p><p>
He was not a man to dwell on the what-ifs either. He was he and Temari was Temari. But when the moon was only a couple hours away from fading and his cigarette pack was nearly empty, he couldn’t help but let his mind wander through his selfish thoughts about another place, another time, where he wasn’t himself and Temari wasn’t Temari. There would somewhere exist a world where shinobis did not exist and clan loyalty hadn’t meant sacrificing any ounce of happiness for the sake of purity and power.</p><p>
But still, in such a world, would they even be happy then?</p><p>
Would he?</p><p>
Would she?</p><p>
Would they even be together or were the two just destined, in no matter what universe, to end up here: cold and alone, and far from each other?</p><p>
Shikamaru flipped to lay on his left and stare outside his bedroom window. There were no clouds that night. There weren’t even stars. Hell, the moon didn’t even have the courage to fully show its face either. He knew that just by looking at its toenail shape, illuminating an almost-empty sky, that even this universe was not prepared for what’s to come tomorrow. Her last words to him replayed over in his mind. Her voice, although firm and unnerving, sounded so sweet and delicious. “You can’t just think about what you want.” About what you want. What you want.</p><p>
What did he want? No, what he wanted was clear. It was more so a question of what did he expect. And if he was being honest with himself, he didn’t know either. For the first time in ever, he felt like he had no strategy. That troublesome woman.</p><p>
Tomorrow will be the third day and he had to figure out how he would go from there. To his knowledge, one of two things could happen: (1) she’d be sensible and send over someone else to take her place in the council meetings or (2) she’d be cold and come by herself. If it was the first, then no problem. She made it clear. She made her choice. But if it was the latter…</p><p>
Shikamaru stared back out at the moon again. The promises of tomorrow could not be foretold no matter how much he thought through each scenario. And with that, he slipped into a dreamless slumber. </p><p>	He slumped his back along the wall of the main entrance. He could hear the faint words shared between Izumo and Kotetsu as he flicked open Asuma’s lighter. He ignited a cigarette, taking in a long and slow drag. The Suna representative should be here any moment now.</p><p>
A small breeze brushed through his ponytail. And as it flew by him, so did his thoughts. He still hadn’t figured out what to do if it was her who actually showed up. Perhaps he could pretend nothing ever happened and revert their whole relationship back to a professional one (as if it was professional at all to begin with). He wouldn’t sit in front of her anymore during meetings or asked if she wanted to get a coffee afterwards. He wouldn’t accompany her around the village as she made her rounds to people nor follow her back to her hotel room where she’d invite him in for their pseudonym tea.</p><p>
Tea. Her favorite was jasmine. When he first found out she was fond of the delicate flavor, he was incredulous. How could a woman as cruel and daunting as her prefer such a fragile taste? She laughed at him and said, “And I suppose you’re one for the dark and bitter?” He chuckled as he remembered how she licked her lips after taking too early of a sip. It was that exact moment then when the two transcended their semi-professional, semi-friendly relationship into a physical one. And they’ve been having tea almost every day she visited.</p><p>
“Vile,” a voice spat, snapping him out of his reverie. “Shouldn’t you know better?”</p><p>
He head shot to where the source of the voice stood. He couldn’t believe it. He thought for sure he would never see her again, yet there she stood: hair disheveled and a bit sweaty from her long and tiresome journey. He knew he should say something but his heart lodged itself in his throat. All he could do was stare. She began walking. Towards her hotel, he assumed, for it was still too early for the meeting to start. And he followed lamely behind her.</p><p>
“I know Konoha almost as well as I know Suna. You didn’t have to do this, you know?”</p><p>
Shikamaru shrugged his shoulders. She was right: he should have known better. He should have known that given her position, and nature for that matter, that Temari was a professional first. She was never one to meddle personal conflicts with work. But if he was being honest with himself, he was counting on her showing up. There was an ache in his bones that he couldn’t quite ignore whenever he thought about it; he just wanted to see her. It was his fault, it was his choice, he knows. But he’d be damned if he said he hasn’t thought about her every day.</p><p>
“I treat all assignments with equal seriousness,” he grunted.</p><p>
“Cut the crap, Nara.”</p><p>
“Temari, please understa—”</p><p>
She turned around then, stopping in the middle of the street, not caring about any passersby whom she threw off their track. “Oh, I understand plenty, Shikamaru,” she spat. “Until Naruto has been appointed Hokage, there is no official alliance between both of our villages. Right now, I serve as that bridge that binds our countries together. And if you think I’m going to let you sabotage my hard work— my brother’s hard work— then you’re wrong, Nara. And that’s why I came here today! Both our villages suffered great casualties and it’ll probably take decades to rebuild reparations. But until then, you want to keep your loyalties separate. Is that correct?”</p><p>
Temari’s voice echoed above the noise of street vendors and civilians, inducing curious peaks at the two standing awkwardly in the middle of the busy marketplace. Shy and a tad uncomfortable about the whispers that he assumed were passed about them, he opened his mouth to suggest they talk in her hotel room. But before any words could form, she closed the gap between them and pressed two fingers right in the middle of his chest. “You just,” she tapped, “can’t think about what you want.”</p><p>
And with that, she walked away. He wanted to move. He wanted to run after her and tell her that he made a mistake. But something held him back. A searing pain rose in his chest as he did nothing but watch her blonde hair bob in a sea of strangers, disappearing until he could no longer discern her from the crowd. His mind and body betrayed each other because no matter how much he wanted to scream for forgiveness, scream that all really wanted, all that he really cared for was her and her alone, his feet were firmly planted on the gravel, unable to chase after the wind.</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Gentle</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This one has been sitting in the drafts for literal months. I've written this chapter like three times. And deciding that I should just say fuck it, I combined all three versions and here we are. </p><p>I have a tumblr. Same username.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As she was about to leave the grand office of the Suna embassy, she stopped for a second in front of the reflective windows and studied herself. Surely she is aware, and proud at that, of her figure: long, slender legs, dips at the hips, sizable chest. She knew looks can kill a man, and she could definitely kill a man. But with an enticing body as hers, she still often wondered if she had a face to match. No doubt she is pretty, but was it the kind of face that men looked at and wanted to bore children with? Or was her status as royalty and smirk of a fierce kunoichi too much for men to bear, so they look away in fear, regardless of how pretty her face looked?
She brushed the thought away. Did she want to be a mother? Did she even want to get married? Last she checked, she had no trace of maternal instinct in her body, let alone any form of wifely material. Perhaps her life’s sole purpose was to fulfill the duties that were ingrained in her blood from generations upon generations: to uphold the Suna name and to ensure that her bloodline reputation was tarnished by no man, woman, or shinobi.</p><p>The moment she stepped out onto the street, she heard a familiar voice calling out to her. “Temaaaaaari!” Temari turned to see a waving Ino and smiled in return. As Ino strutted her way towards Temari, Temari marveled at Ino’s outwardly appearance: lighter hair, lighter eyes, hips naturally sashaying with every step. Ino was definitely a gorgeous woman, and an approachable one at that. From looks alone, Ino was the type of woman men would not be afraid to buy a couple drinks for. And she was the type of woman mothers would want their sons to date. For with Ino, everything about her was curated with purpose. Effort was probably second nature as it was obvious how perfectly styled her hair was everyday and how her lips were always properly glossed. A slight envy crept up in the pit of Temari’s stomach as she wishes she were a woman like Ino: a gentle nature, in appearance and poise. A word that cannot be used to describe Temari under any capacity.</p><p>“It’s been a while,” Temari greeted, stepping in for a small hug. “How’ve you been?”</p><p>Ino sighed sweetly. “This is all god damn tiring, Temari. I just got back from leading a week-long escort mission and our beloved Hokage is sending me on another.” Temari chuckled in sympathy. “What about you? How long is your stay this time?”</p><p>“I’m here for another four days.”</p><p>“Perfect!” Ino grabbed ahold of Temari’s hands. “Some of us are having drinks this weekend! If you’re not busy, please join us!”</p><p>Temari stepped back a bit. “Oh, I—”</p><p>Before Temari could finish her sentence, Ino wrapped an arm around Temari’s shoulders. “Oh stop it, Temari! You know you could use some winding down!"</p><p>Temari is well aware she could definitely use some winding down. But although she’s quite familiar with Konoha and majority of its shinobis, she was still reluctant to join them in such a casual and non-sober environment. “I just didn’t pack anything…”</p><p>“So what! I bet the boys will just show up in their mission gear anyway! Come on! Show us how you Sunans have fun!”</p><p>Just before Temari was about to firmly, but kindly (or kind enough to her personal capabilities) turn down Ino’s invite, Ino waved her arm over to some company behind them.</p><p>“Boys!” Ino called out.</p><p>Temari turned around to see the two other members of Team 10 approaching: one’s gait purposeful and heavy, while the other languid and lazy.</p><p>“Can you believe this, Temari?” Ino chimed as she forced herself in the middle of the two men, locking her arms around each of their elbows. “All three of us were assigned to a mission! Our first one together in a while!”</p><p>Temari nodded, slightly smiling. “A rare occasion, but I’m glad. And how long will this mission take?”</p><p>“Only a day,” Chouji replied bubbly. “It’s an escort mission for an overly paranoid daimyo who is quite fond of the Ino-Shika-Cho formations.”</p><p>“Good luck,” she nodded to the chubby one. “Work carefully,” she smiled at Ino. “Be safe,” she finally addressed the last member.</p><p>Half a cigarette dangled from his mouth as he rubbed the base of his pony tail. “I have no say in the matter.”</p><p>“Die then.”</p><p>And on that note, Temari walked away.</p><p>	With a day full of meetings, policy hearings, and squeezing in some Suna’s political responsibilities in between, exhausted could not even begin to describe the weight that slumped on Temari’s shoulders. On her way back to her hotel, she picked up a to-go plate of grease and carbs and intended to watch some mindless Konohan sitcoms and then take a long, hot bath afterwards. Although she’s in another country and is supposedly working, she technically has the morning off the next day. In an attempt to bond the two countries together, she was requested to offer some training at the Academy but her session does not begin until the late afternoon. And considering that she had nothing else, or no one else, to occupy her morning, she figured she could take her time pampering herself tonight.</p><p>She sat through an hour worth of TV, her dinner long gone within the first 15 minutes. And then sat another hour or so in the tub until the water was no longer hot and the bubbles were just a thin film sitting on the surface. She washed and deep-conditioned her hair, shaved, and even reshaped her eyebrows. A cloud of steam followed behind her as she stepped out of the bathroom door in an old, baggy t-shirt and half-damp hair. It was past 1 a.m., but just as she was about to crawl into bed, she noticed a dark, slender figure idly leaning against the wall by the balcony door frame, a single dot of orange light hanging by his lips.</p><p>“So you didn’t die,” she said, voice low, as she opened the balcony doors.</p><p>“Disappointed?”</p><p>Temari walked back into the small hotel kitchen and withdrew two beers from the mini fridge. Popping off the lids from both bottles, she handed one to Shikamaru while taking a sip from the other. Shikamaru made no change in his stance, but as he slowly reached an arm out to grasp the beer, Temari noted the way he winced from the small movement.</p><p>“You’re hurt.”</p><p>“Not at all,” he croaked after gulping down half the bottle.</p><p>“You’re an awful liar.”</p><p>Before he could rebut, she had already made her way back into the kitchen, repositioning the two kitchen chairs to face one another. “Sit,” she demanded. Reluctant and in obvious pain, Shikamaru pushed himself off the wall and took a seat. He knew better than to argue with this woman, especially in his wounded state. He watched as she rummaged through the hotel drawers before taking out a first aid kit. “Can you take your shirt off?” she called over her shoulder.</p><p>Groaning in what seemed to be annoyance or pain, or maybe both, Shikamaru unzipped his vest and took his long sleeve off, leaving just the mesh undergarment. He leaned both his elbows on his knees, beer bottle still hanging on one hand, as Temari lifted the mesh and inspected his back. His entire backside was decorated with bruises of varying colors, some a light yellowish-green while some a deep purple.</p><p>“How the hell…” Temari gasped.</p><p>“Ambush.”</p><p>“I take it this was more than just an escort mission?”</p><p>“It was, but it wasn’t a person we were escor— AH FUCK!” Temari immediately retracted her hand away from a dark bruise she was applying herbal cream to. “Can you be any more gentle?” Shikamaru hissed.</p><p>His words stung more than Temari cared to admit. No matter how hard she tried, medical ninjutsu was not up her alley. And apparently neither was administering basic first aid care. It was not that she had limited chakra control or not enough intellect to understand this complex branch of ninjutsu, but she found she just didn’t have enough patience, empathy, nor gentleness to carry out the duties of a medical-nin. Her mind then suddenly drifted to Ino, an effeminate woman who Temari not only envied for perfectly filling out that role, but also for being versed in medical ninjutsu. A small pang of jealousy arose in her and she put the cream away.</p><p>“Well if you cared too much about the delicacies, then why did you come here?” she scoffed.</p><p>Shikamaru didn’t say anything. Instead, he brought the beer back up to his lips and took a small sip before he resumed his elbows back onto his knees. Without hearing any more ounce of resistance, Temari went back to applying the cream, more conscious this time of where she was touching and how much pressure she was applying. And after a few more winces and whispered hisses, Temari finally finished treating the bruises on Shikamaru’s back and pulled his mesh shirt down.</p><p>Shikamaru stood up and rolled his shoulders, groaning in pain once more. He chugged the rest of his now-warm beer and tossed the bottle into the sink.</p><p>“You know,” Temari started, still a bit offended, “I think it’s best you see Ino, or Sakura, or any other kunoichi for that matter next time you’re hurt.”</p><p>With the water still running, Shikamaru splashed his face a few times before turning around. “You know I’m not gonna do that,” he said, crossing his arms and leaning onto the counter. The moonlight shining in through the balcony door bounced off his high ponytail and Temari had to suppress her need of wanting to reach out and run her fingers through.</p><p>“It’ll be a lot less painful. Way more gentle.”</p><p>“Doesn’t matter. It’s all the same.”</p><p>A comfortable silence hung in between them for a while. The sound of the sink dripping was the only thing Temari could hear as she watched the rise and fall of Shikamaru’s chest, stippled with tiny splotches of sink water. Sighing, she closed the space between them and rested her forehead against his torso. “Relieved,” she spoke into him, her voice muffled.</p><p>“Hm?”</p><p>“You asked if I was disappointed.”</p><p>Shikamaru heaved a deep sigh. With a finger, he tipped Temari’s chin up to his face and planted a small kiss on her lips. “Me too.” Stepping into his space, Temari also stole the light that drifted in through the glass doors, highlighting her delicate features. With his thumb, Shikamaru gently traced the outline of her chin, and then her jaw, and then her cheek until he was cupping her face in his palm. She nestled into his hand as he slowly caressed her. The night was cold, but there was enough heat between their touching skin to set both on fire.</p><p>And with that, Temari stepped in closer. She wrapped her hands around the base of his neck and tiptoed to meet his height to plant another kiss. It was meant to be another quick one, a small one, but Shikamaru’s large hands were now settled into the curve of her hips. Feeling his fingers pressed into her skin, she deepened the kiss. He pulled her in closer. His hands gradually traveling downward. Their lips in sync, breathing unstable. He pulled away and peppered wet kisses by her ear, down the base of her neck, to her collarbones.</p><p>“No,” she whispered against his hair.</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>Lips never leaving her skin, he pushed her backward, slowly, until the back of her knees met the foot of her bed.</p><p>She pressed her hands against his chest. He lifted off her shirt. “You’re injured,” she breathed.</p><p>“Then be gentle.”</p>
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